A/N: Wow! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! If I sound a bit like a schoolgirl, it's just because I'm so excited that people liked the story. (Sometimes it's just nice to know that someone read your work, that's all.)
Mad-Mary-Flint-86: You're welcome for reviewing your story, and thanks for checking out mine! I hope you update soon, your story was really funny. :-) I put a little shout-out to it in this chapter.
Susan B: I appreciate the heads-up about the Singers. I've never read anything by either author that you mentioned. Thanks for the encouragement, and it was nice of you to review twice!
Demon Dracona: I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Lady Cinnibar: Yeah, canon was a very bitter pill. Long live Sirius!
chuckleseviltroll312: Thanks for the encouragement!
Kaye: Thanks for all your kind words!
Wytil: Ha, ha! 1: Trips Stasis Wall. 2: Trips fireball. 3: Trips rotating knives. We could go on forever…
Jedi Buttercup: You're right, the story is AU. I hadn't really thought about it, because I tend to think of "AU" as meaning something really far out and displaced from the regular Harry Potter world. I'm glad you found the story so engrossing!
kira lingh: Thank you very much!
Wolfia: I know… poor, poor Severus. He's a tough one, though.
Chapter 21: False Fronts
The aftermath of the attack on Harry, Hermione, and Snape was grim. The Christmas spirit that had permeated the school had almost completely vanished. Professor McGonagall was not pleased that Harry and Ron had walked from the hospital wing to Gryffindor Tower alone in the dead of night. Even though they had made it back in one piece, the staff was still scouring the school for remaining traps. Until they were satisfied that the hallways were safe, no student was allowed to go anywhere without a teacher. They were escorted to and from their lessons, meals, and dormitories. They weren't even allowed to go off to the library alone.
Ron had been right – Harry and his spell were the hottest topics of conversation. It seemed that everybody wanted to know where he had learned it, especially since he had lived with Muggles for the first eleven years of his life. That meant that someone had taught him or he'd read it in a book. There were no teachers who showed Harry obvious favoritism, so some of the more determined students combed the library for any information on Donum Vitae, to Madam Pince's irritation. All they were able to discover was what Harry, Ron, and Hermione already knew – that it was no longer taught in any magical school, and that it usually killed the caster. When this last fact became known, Harry began to see some of the underclassmen watching him with awe, as if he'd done something superhuman.
Harry himself wasn't quite sure why he had let go. Now that he had experienced Donum Vitae, he understood why so many witches and wizards had died while using it. It had been the most sublime feeling he had ever known, as if he were filling with life instead of having it drained out of him. Had he let go of his own free will, or had he simply been so tired that he collapsed? Harry wished he knew the answer.
The reporters at the Daily Prophet had decided that Harry's survival was the result of skill, not exhaustion. Suddenly he was the Boy Wonder again. Ron showed him the article that had come out while he was still asleep. "Valiant", "noble", and "selfless" were just a few of the more colorful adjectives used to describe him. It all made Harry feel rather annoyed. After all, he'd only done what anyone with a beating heart should have done – everything they could do for their fellow man, even if they despised him.
The members of the Ministry delegation to Hogwarts were under intense scrutiny by Daily Prophet reporters. It was clear from the articles that they were trying to discover whether anyone had slipped off from the main group at any time, but they got nowhere. The Ministry's theory was that someone else had done it, anyone other than someone from the delegation. Their wild accusations named Peeves, any of the teachers, a Dark wizard who snuck in, or one of the students. Even Snape was not spared; Fudge went so far as to say that the Potions master had set the trap and had wound up getting caught in it himself. No one at Hogwarts was buying any of it, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione suspected that the rest of the magical world wasn't either. It was simply too much of a coincidence for the perpetrator not to be part of the Ministry group. The whole thing put Fudge in a very bad light, and Harry wasn't sorry to see it.
Hermione was experiencing publicity for the very first time, and she didn't enjoy it any more than Harry did. Plaudits were heaped upon her for her success with Carceris Renere; if she hadn't managed it, even Donum Vitae wouldn't have saved Snape from bleeding to death. Yet it wasn't her witchcraft that drew the most attention – it was the fact that she could have been the person that the trap was set for, and there was great speculation as to why. Everyone knew that someone was always trying to kill Harry, and Snape certainly had lots of enemies, but why would anyone want Hermione dead? The Daily Prophet came up with a theory, and it involved Professor Trelawney's prophecy - naturally. Harry wished with all his heart that everyone would just forget about the dratted thing. He thought he could almost bear the limelight if only they would leave that prophecy alone.
Ron alone escaped all the media attention, but neither he nor his friends were surprised. Even though he'd been pegged as a part of the prophecy, he hadn't been trapped in the invisible box. Harry and Hermione assured him that he shouldn't want to have been there, but Ron seemed to think that he'd missed out on something.
"Once again, you two have an adventure without me," he said. "First, Hermione has the nightmare of her life and asks for Harry. Then the two of you get to save Professor Snape's life."
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione scoffed. "We've been over the dream already, you know why I needed to see Harry. And we weren't being brave in that trap – we were scared stiff. I only knew what to do because Snape told me."
"And I just ran on instinct," Harry said. "I would have thought that falling off your broom would have been enough excitement for you."
"Well, that was Ravenclaw's doing, not Voldemort's," said Ron. "It's not that I want to be in danger, it's just that… well, I want to help, you know?"
"But you did help," Hermione said. "You found Dumbledore."
"Actually, it happened the other way around," said Ron. "I was probably halfway there when he found me – him and half of the professors. They were already on their way. I meant to ask Dumbledore how he knew, but in all the excitement, I forgot."
"Was Professor Thornby there when you found Dumbledore?" asked Hermione.
"Yes, but –"
"There's your answer – she knew that Harry was in danger and came looking for him."
Harry's eyes widened. He had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be able to sense when he was being threatened. The suit of armor had tried to attack him, but he'd been too focused on the situation to notice her coming closer. "Maybe we could ask her if that's the way it happened," he mused.
As it turned out, Professor Thornby sent for Harry before he had a chance to bring up the subject. Professor McGonagall came to fetch him from the library one night while he, Ron, and Hermione were studying, and walked him to his guardian's office. When they entered, she was seated behind a heavy, dark-paneled desk. There was little embellishment in the room, but there was an armchair for visitors, an enameled tea set, and a rosebush in the corner just like the one in her classroom.
"Thank you, Minerva," said Professor Thornby, smiling and rising from her chair.
"Not at all," Professor McGonagall replied. "Just let me know when you're through."
"You understand why I couldn't come for you myself," Professor Thornby said as the door closed. "Merlin, but I hate all this secrecy. Sometimes I would just rather the world knew what I was really doing here."
"But you're really teaching, too," Harry said. "And then there's the Dueling Club."
"True," she said, "but I wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for you. Have a seat." Harry sat down in the armchair. "Tea?" she said, proffering a teacup. "It's a very nice Earl Grey." Harry didn't really want any, but felt it would be rude to refuse, and accepted the cup.
"I suppose you know why I wanted to talk to you," said Professor Thornby, her expression becoming graver. "I certainly never expected you to use Donum Vitae. Harry, I must know – why did you decide to learn it? I thought you had been sufficiently warned."
Harry stared at her. "I didn't decide anything," he said. "I just knew it."
"You're being serious?" she said uncertainly.
"Yeah," said Harry, nodding for emphasis. "I was just kneeling there panicking, and all of a sudden I knew what to do. It felt like… remembering how." Professor Thornby stood up and moved to stand beside the window. She crossed her arms and looked out over the grounds, frowning. "Ron had the idea that I'd learned it from you," Harry continued cautiously. He told her everything Ron had said, including the bit about the Killing Curse and Donum Vitae.
Professor Thornby smiled wryly. "From what I hear, your friend has been doing some serious growing up this year," she said. "First his marks, then making Keeper, and now this."
"Then he's right?" asked Harry.
"I can think of no other explanation, unless Voldemort knew Donum Vitae and you learned it from him," she said. "And Ron's not too far off about the two spells, either. They're not truly opposites, magically speaking, but they are both very powerful. Donum Vitae can be every bit as potent as Avada Kedavra. In any case, if you got it from me, other signs should show up, given time."
"Like Singing?" said Harry.
Professor Thornby gave him a very serious look. "It's possible," she said. "You were not born a Parseltongue, and that is not a learnable skill. Either you can do it or you can't. Harry, I have never heard of anyone gaining inborn skills from someone before, not even because of Donum Vitae. But then, no one has ever survived Avada Kedavra before, and that makes you a very special case. If you have become a Singer, then it will manifest itself sporadically someday. Be careful if you sing or hum around other people; you wouldn't want that talent to become common knowledge, believe me.
"I was afraid for you," Professor Thornby said, turning back to the window. "I knew you were in trouble, but I didn't know how much until we got close. I could feel your life draining away. Donum Vitae put you in more danger than the trap ever did. You're fortunate that you let go when you did."
Harry bristled at the implied criticism. "What would you have had me do?" he said sharply. "Just let Snape die?"
"No," she continued. "I don't think you did the wrong thing at all. I just couldn't do anything about it – all I could do was watch, and feel useless. But you handled things well."
There was a pause. Professor Thornby shook her head and turned back to Harry. "Well, I won't keep you any longer, then. I've heard what I needed to know." She reached into a clay pot near the fireplace, pulled out a handful of Floo powder, and tossed it into the flames. "Minerva, it's time," she said, and moments later there was a knock on the door.
Harry was just about to leave when a question occurred to him. "What house were you in?" he asked abruptly.
Professor Thornby stiffened. "Slytherin," she said, staring into Harry's eyes.
Harry's blood ran cold. His expression must have been something, because Professor Thornby winced slightly. "Good night, Harry, Minerva," she said softly, and closed the door between them.
"Come on, Potter. Back to the library with you," said Professor McGonagall, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Harry moved forward automatically, not really paying attention to where he was going. "Slytherin?" he repeated dazedly.
Professor McGonagall frowned at him. "Potter, you have got to stop thinking of Slytherin as the enemy. Ambitious people are not necessarily evil."
"She could have told me sooner," Harry said bitterly.
"She probably didn't because she knew how you'd react," retorted Professor McGonagall. "She told me herself that without her ambition, she would never have become the person she is today. She would have wasted away to nothing after her family was killed. People can have more than one quality that defines them!" she exclaimed when Harry was unresponsive. "Look at yourself – the Sorting Hat very nearly put you in Slytherin, did it not? You're the pot calling the kettle black."
Back in the library, Harry lost no time in relating the conversation to Ron and Hermione, including the news about Professor Thornby's House. Ron reacted in much the same way that Harry had, but Hermione was nonplussed.
"So?" she said. "The Slytherins aren't all bad."
"You sound like Professor McGonagall," said Harry.
"Better to sound like her than you," scoffed Hermione. "You're acting like a bigot."
"Now hold on a minute!" Harry began.
"No, you hold on a minute," she said firmly, keeping her voice low. "Hasn't Professor Thornby proved herself to you yet? She almost died trying to keep you alive this summer, and you know she's on your side because of this whole guardian-connection thing. I'd think you could afford to give her the benefit of the doubt."
"Rrrgh!" Harry growled, scrubbing one hand through his hair. "You're right, I know it, you're always right. I don't think she's the enemy, I just… I think she should have told me long ago!"
Even Hermione couldn't disagree with that.
**********
The Slytherins were downcast for days. It was well known that Snape's condition was still quite delicate; the sword had gone all the way through him, and he'd lost quite a lot of blood before Hermione took down the Stasis Wall. It wasn't until the middle of the week that Madam Pomfrey knew that he would live, and said she expected him to make a full recovery. None of the Slytherins said anything, but Harry's actions seemed to have produced an uneasy truce between Gryffindor and its rival. Harry supposed that even the Slytherins couldn't find an excuse to fight when two of their enemies had saved the life of their Head of House.
Even though they were preoccupied with Snape's well-being, the Slytherins still had to take their term exams like everyone else. Harry had recovered from Donum Vitae just in time for his first test – Herbology. He was lucky that he had already spent time studying for it, as Hermione was quick to point out. "Aren't you glad you prepared early?" she said. "You lost all your last-minute studying time."
The exams weren't nearly as bad as Harry had expected. In Herbology they had to demonstrate the proper technique of caring for a Snapdragon and list the seven potions in which it was used. The Astronomy exam consisted of filling out a star chart and identifying the constellations. Defense Against the Dark Arts was a practical exam, in which Bellaton flung curses and hexes at each student one by one while they tried to deflect them. Even Potions went well; the antidote they had to make was complicated, but with Dumbledore presiding instead of Snape, Harry felt quite at ease the whole time. The only exam that was a complete debacle was Divination. The students divided up into partners, put themselves into trances, and read each others' auras. At least, that's what they were supposed to do, but half the class never approached the level of hypnosis required and had to resort to making things up as usual.
Even though the exams went much more smoothly for Harry than usual, he was still relieved when he finished the last test. Ron admitted that they had gone well for him too, and though Hermione never said "I told you so", it was written all over her face.
"Christmas holidays at last!" Ron sighed that night as he packed up his trunk. "I suppose all our hard work's going to pay off in the end, but I need a good long rest before I can face the next term."
Since Harry was going to spend Christmas at Alverbrooke, there was no reason for Ron or Hermione to stay at the school. "It'll be more fun being home anyway," said Hermione. "Everyone's been so gloomy around here lately."
"Maybe we can see each other over the holiday," Harry suggested hopefully. "I'm looking forward to seeing Sirius and Lupin, but it'll be weird not spending the time here with you, having the castle all to ourselves…"
"We wouldn't have it to ourselves this year anyway," said Ron. "The professors are still looking for booby traps, remember?"
"I guess I'm lucky that I have someplace to go then," said Harry.
"You know you're always welcome at the Burrow," said Ron. "I think that mum practically sees you as one of us now."
Harry was pleased. "Really?" he said. "Well, she's behaved more like a mother to me than Aunt Petunia ever did. And you can tell her that if you want to."
"If I tell her, you'll be on the family clock before you know it," Ron laughed.
A tapping at the window interrupted them. Harry opened the window to find two owls outside – Hedwig and a small, mottled bird that he recognized as a Little Owl. Hedwig bore a package.
"Two owls, and at night?" said Hermione.
"Who's the package from?" asked Ron.
"It's… from the Dursleys," Harry said in disbelief. "I wrote to say I wouldn't be coming back to Privet Drive for Christmas. I do it every year."
"Go on, open it!" Ron urged.
Harry pulled off the brown paper to reveal a box of Swiss chocolates. Attached was a small card that read, "Happy Christmas from Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley".
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at the box. "What did they send you last year?" said Hermione. "A pair of socks?"
"Something like that," said Harry. "But the Dursleys would send one instead of a pair."
"Looks like they feel bad for almost killing you," Ron snorted.
"Frankly, I'm surprised they cared at all," Harry said dryly. "I'm an inconvenience to them and nothing more."
"Well, the candy looks good," said Ron. "Mind if I have one?"
"Help yourself," said Harry, proffering the box. Ron reached in and pulled out a dark chocolate.
"Wait!" cried Hermione. "What if it's poisoned?"
Ron closed his mouth and put down the candy.
"Hermione, they didn't mean to poison me," Harry said. "They wouldn't send me something like that."
"That's not what I meant," she said anxiously. "What if it's not from the Dursleys at all?"
"There's a thought," said Ron.
"I don't think so," said Harry. "Hedwig brought it, and I sent her to them."
Hermione shook her head. "But the gift is odd, isn't it? And it sounds to me like the Dursleys are the kind of people who could definitely be fooled twice."
"Well, maybe we'd better play it safe then," said Harry. He put Ron's uneaten chocolate back and tucked the box away in his trunk. "Maybe Bellaton can check them. It's the only nice thing the Durlseys have ever given me." Harry didn't mention it, but he was very conscious of the talisman he was wearing, the one he wore every day. The stickpin was poking into his skin a bit. He wondered how well the emerald would work if he did eat something that wasn't so wholesome.
"Don't forget the other one," Ron said, stretching out his arm. The mottled owl fluttered up to land, and Harry reached over to pull off the letter. It turned out to be a note from Professor Thornby, informing him that he would ride the Hogwarts Express back to Kings Cross with the rest of the students who were going home. When he disembarked, he would meet a disguised Professor Thornby who would take him to Alverbrooke with a Portkey. When he finished reading, Harry crumpled the letter and set it aflame with his wand.
"I wonder who she'll be disguised as?" said Hermione.
"She didn't say," said Harry.
"Maybe she'll be an old woman again, like when we went to London for that concert," said Ron.
"Well, if I can't find her, she'll have to find me," said Harry. "Come on, let's finish up. We've got to get up early tomorrow to catch the train." He opened the window, and the two owls soared off into the night.
**********
The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione took the horseless carriages to the train station in Hogsmeade where the Hogwarts Express was already waiting. Snow was falling softly onto the village, where smoke rose cheerfully from chimneys and the train's great red smokestack. The students clambered out of the carriages and hurried toward the train, laughing and talking. The gloomy atmosphere that had hung over them all for the past week was fading away; it was impossible to feel down when you were heading back to your family for the holidays.
The ride back to Kings Cross seemed to fly by. Harry spent an enjoyable afternoon with Ron and Hermione, buying something of everything off the snack witch's trolley and playing Exploding Snap. Fred and George created a diversion in the corridor when the door to their compartment was blown clean off its hinges; though both twins were covered in soot, they refused to say what it was they'd been up to.
The train rolled onto platform 9 ¾ as dusk was falling. Harry gathered up his remaining sweets and singed Exploding Snap cards and disembarked with Ron and Hermione. There were parents everywhere waving to the students coming off the train; here and there were reunited families who were hugging their hellos. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were easy to spot with their flaming red hair.
"Hullo, mum!" called Ginny, running into her mother's embrace.
"Oh, my dear Ginny, welcome back! And here's Ron, oh, I've been so pleased with your marks–"
"We always hoped he'd listen to us instead of you," said Fred, "but he's gone completely off his nut. We hardly know him anymore."
"What happened to you two?" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley. "No, I don't think I want to know after all. And here's Hermione and Harry, oh, I've been so worried about you ever since we heard…"
"Sounds to me like you had nothing to worry about, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "They're heroes in the wizarding world right now." He shook their hands.
"All the same, I hate to think about what could have happened," said Mrs. Weasley with a shiver. "Still, all's well that ends well, except for poor Professor Snape, of course. I wonder if I should send him a fruitcake?"
"Are you crazy?" cried Ron. "He'd make my life a living hell!"
"Not to mention the rest of us," said Ginny.
"All right then, no fruitcake. How about some homemade Pepper Imps?"
"Mum!"
"Come on, Molly, let's get off the platform. Harry's escort is waiting."
They walked through the barrier between platform 9 ¾ and the rest of Kings Cross. Harry immediately began looking around, trying to guess who might be Professor Thornby in disguise. He could feel her in his head, coming closer from the right.
Harry got the shock of his life when he looked up to see Vernon Dursley bearing down on him, a vicious snarl on his face. "Well, boy, don't keep me waiting," he growled, mustache twitching.
It was her, all right; Harry struggled to keep a straight face while he picked up Hedwig's cage and his trunk. Ron was having less luck. The corner of his mouth kept twitching.
"I thought you were going to stay with us for the holidays," said Fred suspiciously.
"Yeah," said George. "Why on earth are you going back to Privet Drive?"
"George!" said Mrs. Weasley, sounding scandalized.
"Er, Dumbledore thinks I'll be safer there," Harry stammered. He didn't think he was doing a very good job of covering his tracks. Even Ginny had narrowed her eyes.
"Yes, you've been safe there for the last fifteen years," said Mr. Weasley smoothly.
"Safe?" exclaimed Fred. "What about the pois-"
"FRED WEASLEY!" barked Mrs. Weasley. "You are not supposed to know that –"
"Well, we eavesdropped on you, of course –"
"Get a move on, boy," grunted Professor Thornby. "I left the motor running." She turned and walked away, and Harry followed. He cast a glance back over his shoulder just before they reached the exit; Fred, George, and Ginny were all being loudly told off, Ron was waving goodbye, and Hermione had apparently just found her own parents.
"Around the corner," said Professor Thornby as soon as they were outside. They walked around the building to a shadowed alley on one side.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to meet the Grangers," she said in Uncle Vernon's gruff voice, "but Vernon Dursley wouldn't have wanted to."
"You're doing a pretty good impression," said Harry.
"Well, I got to know them rather better than I wanted to last summer," she replied. She reached into the pocket of the tweed jacket she was wearing and pulled out a glove. She laid it down on top of Harry's trunk, drew out a wand, and muttered, "Portus." It was very odd for Harry to see Uncle Vernon holding a wand and muttering spells, even though he knew who it was underneath.
"Grab hold of your trunk, we don't want to leave it behind. On three, we'll touch the portkey together. One, two, three!"
They reached forward and each took one finger of the glove. Harry felt the familiar jerk and cold wind on his face as they rushed forward through space. With a jarring thump, he found himself standing on a snowy path with great fir trees all around.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"On the grounds, not too far from the house," she replied. "I feel silly looking like this. I was hoping that the Polyjuice Potion might wear off before we got back."
She cast a Featherlight Charm on Harry's trunk, and they started walking down the path. They moved in silence for a long minute before Professor Thornby cleared her throat.
"There is another reason I set us down outside," she said. "I wanted to apologize to you for not telling you about my House. I didn't think you'd trust me if you knew… What's so funny?"
"You can't know how weird it is for me to be having this conversation with Uncle Vernon," Harry laughed.
"This body is so heavy!" she exclaimed. "I don't see how he lugs it around. I hope this potion wears off soon, I'm sweating already. But seriously, now, about my House –"
"It's okay," said Harry. "I was just surprised, that's all. I haven't met any decent Slytherins. I don't trust them any farther than I can throw them, but you're different."
She exhaled, looking relieved. Or rather, Vernon Dursley looked relieved. "How far do you think you can throw me?" she joked.
They walked around another stand of trees and found that they had reached the end of the path. It was now quite dark, but the stars shining overhead were bright. The house lay before them across an open stretch of snowy ground. Light was blazing from every window.
"Pretty, isn't it?" said Professor Thornby. Her voice sounded funny; Harry looked over and saw her hair lengthening and her thick arms shrinking. In a matter of moments, she had transformed back into herself.
"Oh, dear!" she cried, grasping at the waist of her now enormous trousers. "I hadn't thought about this." She waved her wand, and the clothes shrank and changed until she was wearing her usual garb. She swung a dark cloak around her shoulders and clasped it in the front. "Brrr, I'm freezing – let's get inside."
They had only covered half the remaining distance when they heard a joyous bark up at the house. Three figures had emerged, one of which was a dark shape that was streaking over the ground. It barreled into Harry and sent him flying backwards, being nearly as big as he was. Harry found himself lying in the snow with a giant black dog's front paws on his shoulders.
"Ugh, Sirius!" Harry laughed, "You've got dog breath!" The dog barked in reply.
"At obedience school they teach dogs not to jump up on people," smirked Professor Thornby.
The dog growled at her and swiped at the ground with its paw, flinging snow into her face.
"Oh, so that's how it's going to be," she said, and flicked her wand. Quick as a wink, a mound of snow gathered itself up into a giant snowball, floated over the dog's head, and fell with a plop.
Sirius emerged in human form with a snowball in each hand, flinging one at Professor Thornby and one at Harry.
"Hey, what'd I do?" cried Harry, wiping snow out of his ear. Another snowball smacked into his back and he turned to see Lupin grinning at him.
"You came home, that's what you did!" shouted Sirius, throwing another snowball.
"Wait, you can't have a snowball fight without me!" called Bellaton as he came running up. Professor Thornby's response was to shower him with snowballs that she directed with her wand.
"Oi, that's not fair!" Bellaton cried.
"Are you a wizard or aren't you?" she taunted, then shrieked as Harry's missile smacked into her neck. All order broke down as the five of them pulled out their wands and charmed snowballs that whizzed around indiscriminately, plowing into anybody and everybody. When the blizzard finally stopped they were all on the ground, soaking wet and laughing.
"Welcome back, Harry," Sirius panted.
Harry grinned back. You came home, his godfather had said. With Sirius and Lupin there, Harry couldn't help feeling that it was true.